Clootie Dumpling

No two ways about it, rum was drunk to keep out the cold. Actually more like the damp which was guaranteed to stiffen the youngest joints and turn the happiest mind into a pit of despair. Low light, early dark, fog, make for poor companions, so what else is there to do but have some hot rum and water. Rosy glow in seconds. Rum toddy I have had when the tonsillitis got me; can’t say I liked it one bit, thinking perhaps I should suffer on in silence instead of pleading for a cure!
Clootie dumpling; now that was different, absolutely nothing better in the pudding world. When birthdays came around, a huge dumpling was made, and in it were the old-fashioned silver threepenny bits and silver charms for bracelets wrapped in little twists of greaseproof paper. You can imagine how much dumpling got eaten, just to find a few of those pretty treasures. A tot of rum was added to the recipe, no doubt to deal with the bad weather which still hung about. Grandpa liked it best when it was two or three days old; he’d cut a thick slice and fry it with lovely farm bacon. The cold hadn’t a chance after that meal.

It’s quite the recipe, so rather than write it all out, I direct you to the fount of knowledge in the sky – Google – plenty of ways to make it there. Don’t forget the touch of rum.
MEMOIRS OF A CHILD ON A FARM